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It is a book separate "the words of my book nothing, the (trend) of it everything."

I may be over in Philadelphia shortly & then I shall call and pay my respects to Whitman and yourself.I

And as he returned me the letter, "That reminds me of my letter to Bucke today.

It is no new thing to me—indeed, is a very old thing—it came to me, almost, in my youth.

I don't know but I'll have to close all my friends out."

Harned had said to me, "They shan't collect that money except over my body."

I gave my check for $1500 to Tom just now.

And to my, "Well, and Clifford likes it!" W. exclaimed, "That's best news!

I put in, "If there is no law why should I not rob my brother's house?"

With their admission of the fraud, I had them right in my fist and I made 'em squirm.

I remarked my confidence that the thing would all be done Monday. W. not so confident.

"My neighbor, the grocer at the corner, sends it in.

He says, it is for my old friend, Walt Whitman.

It is now howling & pouring against my window as I write.My heart's best gratitude & love to you for

I know you will pardon my hurrying off.My love to you & yours.I gave R. K.

And to my fervent, "Yes!

He took my hand and went across the room toilsomely.

Which is good, after my trouble." "Time for what? Have you suggestions to make? I hope so."

Then he leaned forward to the bed, handing me from it a copy of my August Lippincott's and Bucke's "Whitman

"I am quite ready in my own work when I find a good thing I want to say said by another, to use him—quote

Other poets have written and written with unmistakable power, grandeur, but my mark has been a distinct

request, generally, from the female applicants—no less, in fact, than that I should add a sentiment to my

Harned: "Reinhalter was in today—came to my office. Then he went out to see Moore.

Harned: "That was my position.

My days will get me over the bridge if I never see it!"

Thanks to you both.I had planned to have some leisure at my command to write you a fairly long letter

at Johnston's—sitting up with him till after 1, both loathe to separate.I read the College some of my

of & gratitude for all your kindness by my cold, undemonstrative passiveness—"the cold silent manner

you both love & blessing.All the time I was in Camden I felt it all too deeply—beyond my capacity to

wil gradually take its due place & proportion & perspective in my mind.

After a bit he rose, sat on the edge of the bed, his back my way.

Asked me, "I'll get you, if you will, Horace, to untie this handkerchief about my neck.

Then after I had re-taken my seat he called me up again. "One good turn deserves another.

Bucke's letter of 23rd answered my question: how had W. recently been writing him (in what spirit and

Give her my love—best wishes to you—wish I could spend a couple of weeks in your neighborhood.So long

Something decisive will probably appear in a day or two—either a move against Walt or acquiescence in my

And then, "Good night, my dear! Good night, Horace!"

(When she had started up obedient to my summons, he had called from his seat, "Come up, Anne!

They even proposed a privilege from me that Moore should go among my friends and collect the money!

But I would get my copy.

And would get up, despite my protests, and go to the table. "It will do me good.

"There are several I particularly wish to send—to my folks and one or two others."

Thought my book a fraud, thought me a fraud—as, no doubt, I am."

It came close to my own way of thinking.

My friend Collins has had another letter from Mr. W. C.

It would give distinction to my gathering. Is this too big an order?"

to be none the worse for his shaking up, or down, of which he remarked, "Yes, I tumbled: at least, my

easily—in fact, let myself go—and when down, rested there till Mary Davis came up and helped me to my

My legs are hardly able to hold me up anymore: the steel is given out—all out."

Never looked up till the reading was done, then saying, "I don't see what good my Burns would do them

Sheets of my Burns might be sent, if I could fish them out. But even that is doubtful."

And at my statement—"That is right, I am glad you said it that way," adding, "There are stories nowadays

I told him in my last letter that he would undoubtedly get a copy next week." "So he will!

My Burns is not of particular value. As I have said, it is not an old copy.

Amusedly said, "I tried to make my daughters see it the other night—read it to them—but no, they would

mechanic and with Star & Sons, although a western man.Now, at Chicago, I have just bought "Good-Bye My

s room with a big bundle under my arm. Ten of the books ready—had got them from Oldach.

W. exclaimed, seeing me enter loaded, "Here is my book at last! Into harbor at the end of day!

things to say further of George Eliot and George Sand, W. remarked, "If it did not seem like treason to my

Leaves of Grass—or most of us—and it keeps just the same as ever or improves, like good wine.Give my

It would have proved me a fool—a fool in my old age, after the war and the toil and the saving.

And again, "That reminds me: what do you think of my new portrait?"

"Carey sent me this—sent me a number for my name.

date it is sent.I had brought in "Where Meadows Meet the Sea" and the Bucke volume he had marked for my

Text very kindly to W. but doleful.W. on bed on my entrance. Extended his hand. "Here again?

"My God!" he exclaimed. "I feel as if to burst!" I shook hands with him.

Gave him account of my talk with McKay. W.'

Johnston, I will keep mine for my own immediate people. Mary has that one copy downstairs now."

It is my idea: I won't let you have it for yourself alone."

And will you use my '72 L. of G. as sample? If not wd. you please send the '72 to me?

"Walt, you don't seem often to mistake my step, even in the dark."

"No, I do not, but my senses seem to get duller." I took a chair and moved it up towards the bed.

This is my music day.

Remarked, "How much the drop-light does for my eyes!" It was "an eye-saver, sure enough."

W. counsels me, "Give all of my friends there best remembrances, and give Brinton my special affection

constituted Ralph Moore with power to watch the constructive details, he assumed the power to set me my

In my postal card reply to you I suggested the following Friday at this office, and not hearing from

My own counsel would be, don't tone down or up: let go—give way to the spirit—it must come up right in

He has not seen my manuscript. Wonders if I can let him have a glimpse of the proof?

My question would be, where is the poetry anyway? I do not see it—not a glimpse of it.

glad, Doctor, to hear all that you have to say, but nothing you have told me moves me an inch from my

My appetite is nearly all gone. I seem to have no wish to eat."

article on "The Whitman-Shakespeare Question," notes on "Good-Bye" from Miss Porter, announcement of my

W. intensely interested in my detail of it all and expressing "entire concurrence with Brinton's attitude

J.Aug. 21st 1891.My dear SirOn Oct 12th (Discovery day falls this year on Sunday) our Pan Republic Congress

of Grass" imperfect enough (which of course enters another phase of the subject).I had Poet-Lore in my

My "Lowell, Holmes & Whitman" was well received.

My lecture is with my sketches, about 2 hours long—1/2 hour to each part, & about 1/2 hour to the sketches

My sculptor's art begins at 8. and gets done at 10. or 10 1/2—just as the people feel.

Traubel last night giving her some of the particulars she asked for of my voyage.

that I could get out, that I could practically demonstrate my admiration, my applause!

"That was my own feeling: I wondered if he had anything to say.

And not, besides, be square with my known principles, for, as with Emerson, I claim Shakespeare for the

I will expose you by the exactness of my portrait!

But say, I am here tonight, in my bed, cheerful if not comfortable, with hope up again, though with entire

recognition of the gravity of my condition."

Give him—give her—my love, sympathy. Poor woman, too—she particularly: my heart goes out to her."

Reminded me, "My copy of Poet-Lore came today. Shall I send it to Bucke?"

At my suggestion that Longaker should have been over, he declared, "We do not need him.

But it observed my warning: "Don't become alarmist." And so did Ledger.

Saying, too, "My mind is too active: I wish it would rest. It is as active as 40 years ago."

Darkness thickens—my heart trembles on its throne—the end not unprobably near.To my mother's house a

few minutes (this my birthday—a solemn birthday—my mother giving me with tender hand an old cherished

with a louder voice than love in this modern world—and with so many sick and sad I cannot think of my

These are my warm Christmas wishes for Walt and you and me and all people.Very cordially yrsElisabeth

Tenn. was the bright particular star of my youth and early manhood—is a man who makes this dull earth

I seem to be holding my own."

I am more nervous than my friends understand."

After they were finished, he remarked, "I feel none the worse for the ordeal except for my left leg:

that is the side of my paralysis.

I was depressed—I had not vim enough to lift my hand. I have eaten solids.

My whole day full of business and anxiety. Brinton startled at the knowledge I gave him.

"No, but I cannot give up my fears and convictions either."

George Whitman, who was just going at the time of my entrance.) W. had told Mrs.

To Longaker he had said, "Doctor, you always have the bad luck to catch me at my worst.

My mouth, jaw, tongue are sore from the amount of medicine I have taken."

"I see no reason to change my Sunday's opinion." Bucke not arrived yet.

clean the bed and he urged them to "hurry," saying at one moment, "Look out, Warrie, you'll knock over my

Bucke insisting, "Didn't I write that I delivered my last lecture Saturday and was likely to drop down

I go to Philadelphia and to my desk with a heavy heart.

My dear Traubel:I am more pained than I can express to see, by the morning papers, that dear, good, great

My hope is that the reports are exaggerated, but I fear the worst.

After my own tussle with the Angel, however, I am constrained to send a message of Life and Hope.

We regard Bob's telegram as an acceptance—a response to my morning's telegraphic message.

then, "Walt, it's necessary for you to say that in so many words: you must say, I declare this to be my

last will and testament," and then with a very strong, clear voice he said, "I declare this to be my

"Warrie, give me my handkerchief. It is back here." Much coughing."This is Christmas morning.""Oh!

I found by drinking coffee or tea or even milk punch it stirred up my brain, so I stopped.

It's my fault altogether."3:40 P.M. Burroughs went up and into the room.

McAlister says at this hour, "I still adhere to my opinion. The rally is only temporary." 7:50 P.M.

He saw me flitting about with my black dress on and said to me, 'O Mary!

Bucke says, "I confess my opinion of Mrs. Davis is entirely changed in the last 48 hours."

W. called Warrie quite often for the water, at one time saying, "Lift my head a little higher, boy,"

and again, "Put my leg in the bed, Warrie"—the leg hanging out and he unable to withdraw it.

My yesterday's telegram to Ingersoll was: "Slightly favorable change. Will write."

My opinion now is that January will put an end to all this business."

"Of course I will keep my promise and speak at the funeral.

Give my love to all—my love to all—all," and seemed exhausted, adding after a slight cough, "The great

But you know I am not my own master—that I have duties." "Yes, Maurice, I know."

At the worst, or best, give him the assurance of my warmest love, comradeship, honor.

I have been counting more upon visiting him, & upon reading to him some of my lecture-work, than upon

any other feature of my trip to Phila. next month.

I put my disengaged hand in my pocket and drew them forth. "Could you hear them?"

"Then it is time for my medicine." Took it. Hiccough continues.7.45 Turned on right side.

Said, "I took my medicine at 12, 3, 6, 9, 12.

Give them all my love—all my love!" And almost as J. held his hand feebly dropped into a doze.

My love to the wife, to all the children—bless 'em all—bless—bless!"

"Well then you have the substance of my changes."

In my left hand the candle. Warrie leaned over and lifted W. into a sitting posture.

Give them all my love—Annie, Tom, Herbert. O the children—the children!"

On my return from Philadelphia in evening—6:30—I stopped in for a few minutes. The day uneventful.

Somehow, something in my throat—some obstreperation—it brings back that cork: a dozen times a day it

He held my hand all this time and pressed it again and again.

"If you write to Doctor, give him my love: and to Ingersoll, too—yes, and to Ned Stedman."

"Throw a cloth or quilt over my whole bed. It is getting chilly here." Mrs.

.: "I suppose—anything—any change to a man in my condition is comfort." After a pause.

He held my hand warmly, and I could feel its grasp loosen and fasten from time to time.H.L.T.: "I sent

He held my hands tightly—twice saying almost in a whisper, "God bless you, boy: God bless you—bless you

Chubb could not have heard, and it shook my heart. Then the final good night and kiss and escape.

was his parting and my own was silence.Now again to Philadelphia and not back to 328 till ten.

It goes against my heart to add anything to his unrest.

Said, "It may be with my head higher I will not have the hiccoughs so badly."

McA. saying to me, "At my last call, just now, he hardly noticed me at all."

the end as will enable me to be there if possible.If you speak to Walt tell him he is never out of my

(Which I did—having first kissed him—then for the rest of the time of my stay held his hand in my own

W.: "Yes, that is my wish." H.L.T.: "Then I should open the mail?" W.: "Yes, boy—if you will.

W.: "Let him have it—yes, have it—send it, along with my regards: you will find a bundle of the books

And if things cross my mind any time, I will say something to somebody here, so they are not forgotten

His eyes were shut most of the time, though now and then they partly opened as if to catch my face as

s on my way to Philadelphia (8:20). He was sleeping—I did not disturb him.

Give him my love. He grows dearer every day.Love to you & Mrs. TraubelYours always,R. G.

—in such a tone as drew all my life together into one sense of recognition and response.

There my memory is treacherous." How alive he seemed!

He had me arrested, but the sympathies of the community were all on my side."

And after I had gone on with my description, "How much does it come to?

Said, "I will have my right hand put into the water; no matter about my left."

Said, "This is one of my weakest times."

Button would like the champagne, "Give it to him with my best love."

"It is very good of them: say, I respond to it—give them my love."

And to my "yes" he inquired, "What line does he write on?"

And after my reply and my saying that "they all seem to be coming round," he faintly laughed (and choked

My love goes out to him!"

"That is right: that is my habit."